Mailbox Mayhem

My mailbox has been hit by a car repeatedly for the last several weeks. I don’t know how many times I’ve had to straighten it back up and fill it in with more dirt. It got to the point that I was utterly pissed and although I knew who was doing it, I didn’t know how to prove it.

That was until yesterday.

Still fuming over having it hit again, I was cleaning out my pantry. I came across an expired jar of honey. A light bulb went off and I knew exactly what to do.

I immediately went outside and coated the box with all the glory gooiness. I then sat back and waited. It wasn’t but a few hours when I realized the box was leaning yet again. I grabbed my camera and marched my ass across the street. Just as I had taken the first picture, my neighbor opened the door and asked what the hell I was doing to which I responded getting proof.

He then approaches me looking as if he were about to bite my head off. I begin to explain myself:

"You see, I am sick and tired of having to fix my damn mailbox. I do have better things to do with my time (like plot my husband’s murder) so I had to take matters into my own hands. You see this here (I say as I am pointing to the big glob of honey on his truck), this proves you are the asshole that’s been driving me insane the last several weeks. I coated the box in honey and the proof is on your truck. May I suggest the next time you run into it, you fix it your damn self or I will turn this evidence over to the proper authorities."

I then marched my ass right back home, poured myself a cold beer, and began watching Melrose Place (don't judge me -- nothing else was on). I slept well knowing the honey didn’t actually go to waste and I wouldn’t have this problem again.